A Helping Hand
by alex's wonderland
Summary: OneShot: Johnny's hurt yet again, but a new face comes to rescue this time...Darry? Please R&R.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Outsiders.

Johnny's POV:

I burst through my front door and into the chilly November night. The stars and full moon overhead were beautiful, but I didn't even care to look at them.

My best friend, Ponyboy Curtis, would have looked at them, and probably taken a few moments to admire them. He was always looking at that stars, and the sunset. He really digs that sort of thing, but I don't really get why. But I just figure that Pony is smarter and deeper than me, so it's normal that I don't dig nature the way he does.

I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my old denim jacket, and began making my way to the vacant lot. I had spent many cold nights out there, and I wasn't looking forward to another one, but it was all I could do. In the past week, I'd already spent two nights at the Curtis house, and one at Two-Bit's.

I'd hate to go back to their houses. Even though I'd been told differently about a thousand times, I always thought that I was being a burden to them when I stayed over at their houses too often.

I shivered and shook my head as I thought about how it was going to be an awful cold night, and I really hated curling up on the hard ground of the lot, and trying to form a blanket out of newspapers. Then I felt a warm liquid sliding down my cheek and onto my chin.

I took my hands out of my pocket and wiped at my face, only to then wince away as I touched my new cut and its surrounding bruise, which was developing on my cheek. I walked under the hazy yellow glow of a light pole and looked at blood that was now smeared on my hands.

I started to wipe my hands on my jeans when I heard a voice behind me say, "Hey Johnny." I turned to see Darry approaching me, his hands in his jacket pockets, and his collar turned up against the cool autumn breeze.

I was pretty surprised to see him out here. It had to be about eleven o'clock already, and he was normally at home, making Ponyboy finish his homework, or reminding Soda that it was his turn to wash the dishes.

"Oh, hey Darry." I responded, and then hastily wiped my hands off against my jeans. He came and stood next to me under the street light.

Darry was nineteen, just four years older than me, but to make eye contact with him, I had to drastically tilt my head upward. Darry was so tall and muscular.

I sure do wish that I could be big and strong like him, or handsome like Soda, or smart like Pony, or funny like Two-Bit. At that moment, I hated who I was, and I was ashamed, because I knew Darry was examining the injuries on my face.

I saw his pale blue-green eyes flash with anger as he saw the blood smeared on my face, and the huge purple bruise developing around the cut. He glared at the mark on my face for a moment and shook his head angrily.

He told me, "Johnny, I don't understand how you put up with him! I'd have already run away if my father hit me the way your old mad beats on you." I just shrugged, and lowered my head until I was examining Darry's black and white shoes.

We were both silent for a few moments more, and then Darry finally asked, "Where are you headed Johnnycake?" I sighed and answered him, "The lot." Darry gave me an almost annoyed look before saying, "Nonsense! You're coming home with me, and we're gonna clean up your face, and I'll make up the couch, and you'll get a good nights rest."

I didn't even bother arguing. I was actually very pleased that I had run into him out here. I hated the thought of another freezing cold night in the lot.

As we walked on toward the Curtis's street I asked Darry, "Say, Darry, why were you out walkin tonight?" Darry shrugged and said, "Aw, I don't really know, to tell you the truth. Pony and Soda were already going to bed, and I just felt like I needed to get out of the house for a while. I was only gonna walk to the park and back; you know, get some fresh air, clear my head."

Actually, I didn't really understand why a walk to the park would clear your head, but I just nodded to Darry anyway.

We got to the house eventually, and Darry took me to the small bathroom and told me to sit on the edge of the bathtub. I did as I was told, as Darry rummaged around in the medicine cabinet for a while, and found the first-aid-kit that he was looking for. He knelt down in front of me, and began to doctor my face the best he could.

I winced, and flinched back when he pressed an alcohol drenched cotton ball to my cut. I could see the pain and concern on Darry's face as I collected myself and sat still again. "Gee, I'm sorry Johnny. But we got to clean that, or else it might get infected." I nodded, and braced myself as Darry raised his arm to my face again.

Later, Darry left me in the bathroom to take a shower and get all the hair grease, dried blood, and dirt off of me. When I got out, Darry supplied me with a pair of Ponyboy's shorts and night shirts.

He made up the couch for me to sleep on complete with an extra pillow, and blanket. I was about to lay down, when he reentered the living room from kitchen, holding a glass of water, and ham sandwich. He handed me the food and said, "Here. I just thought you might be hungry, or something."

How had he known that I was absolutely starving? How in the world did he know that I wanted food more than anything else right then?

Normally I was real shy, but when I took the sandwich and water from him, I just beamed. I saw he smiled a little too, because he knew that he had made me happy.

I then understood why Darry was able to take such good care of Soda and Pony. He loved them, and was considerate enough to think about their needs before his own. I felt like Darry loved me too. I wish he was my older brother.

I sat down on the couch to eat it, and Darry walked to the hallway door.

"Alright Johnnycake, I'm gonna go to bed now." Darry said. He turned to go, but then stopped when I said, "Thanks Darry." He looked back behind his shoulder as he walked to his bedroom and said, "Welcome, Johnny."


End file.
